


Together We Can Transcend

by TrenchWarfare



Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: Aliens, Alternate Universe, Arranged Marriage, F/F, Mutual Pining, Pining, Science Fiction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-26
Updated: 2016-08-26
Packaged: 2018-08-11 01:55:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,470
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7871104
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TrenchWarfare/pseuds/TrenchWarfare
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Xion's on borrowed time. Soon her parents will finalize a marriage contract between her and someone who’s probably twice her age and she’ll have duties to fulfill instead of wishes. </p>
<p>Not that Xion gets a lot of wish fulfillment now. Mostly she just sits around and learns about diplomacy and foreign relations.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Together We Can Transcend

**Author's Note:**

> This is my entry for the kh-worldsconnected zine! I was partnered with scyphate and they did an amazing job with the artwork! You can check it out [here!](http://scyphate.tumblr.com/post/149505881288/its-the-big-day-heres-my-piece-for)

Xion has always had this sense that her time is limited. More so than everyone around her. At times, it’s been a great motivator, allowing her to do things faster and better than her peers (though, as her advisors like to constantly remind her, as the princess she has no peers.) Other times though, it looms above her, around her, inside her, like Damocles’s sword, tauntingly swinging above her head, ready to fall at the slightest gust of wind.

She wonders if Roxas feels the same pressure, or if maybe it’s even greater for him as the crown prince and heir to the throne. People expect things from him, great things. The only expectation for Xion is beauty and submissiveness. The perfect attributes to be the wife of some distant royal.

And that’s the crux of it really, she’s on borrowed time. Soon her parents will finalize a marriage contract between her and someone who’s probably twice her age and she’ll have duties to fulfill instead of wishes.

Not that Xion gets a lot of wish fulfillment now. Mostly she just sits around and learns about diplomacy and foreign relations.  

“You might not have a lot of legislative power, but you do have the power to influence people. You can make a real difference, Xion,” her mother had told her after catching Xion staring out the window during one of her lessons. It’s a tired, old speech, one that Xion’s heard more times than she could count, and maybe if Xion were a better person it would inspire her.

She really does admire the things her mother has done as the queen, but she has no such aspirations. She’d much rather be down in the courtyard training the knights with Roxas.

Which is where Roxas should be right now actually, but instead he’s hurrying down the hallway towards her. Xion blinks as he comes to a stop in front of her, his face red with exertion, clutching a stitch in his side.

“Did you run all the way up here from the courtyard?” Xion asks. Roxas is still wearing his training armor.

“Not important,” he snatches her hand and starts tugging at her, “Mom and Dad are meeting with someone.”

Xion is perplexed, but she follows anyway, “They’re always meeting with people,” she says.

“Yeah, but right now they’re meeting with a _single_ King,” Roxas says. Xion stumbles a little, but Roxas’s hand stops her from falling on her face.

“They didn’t tell me.”

“Well, they probably don’t want to worry you, in case it doesn’t work out,” Roxas says. Xion knows it’s supposed to make her feel better, but really it just hammers it home that she doesn’t have a choice in this.

The stumble to a stop a few yards away from one of the studies that’s used specifically for meetings. Roxas pulls her over to a windowsill and whispers, “look busy.”

Xion smooths a nervous hand down her dress, “What am I supposed to do?” she asks, “Should I- I mean, should I go in there?” Roxas levels a disbelieving look at her. She shakes her head, “No of course I shouldn’t. What am I talking about?”

Roxas reaches out and takes her hand again, “Calm down, you don’t have to do anything,” he says.

Xion resists the urge to scoff. That’s easy for him to say. He’s not _expected_ to do nothing, but most days nothing just feels like the status quo for her.

 “It’s gonna be okay, right?” Xion says and Roxas nods solemnly.

The study door opens to a cacophony of laughter and Xion goes rigid. Her back is to the door and the voices, so she watches Roxas’s face go from steady and determined, to slack jawed, and finally landing on careful blankness.

Worry squirms in her gut, but she squashes it and keeps her eyes trained in front of her even though every muscle is screaming at her to turn around.

“It was truly a pleasure meeting with you, gentlemen,” their mother says, her voice the epitome of class and elegance.

“The pleasure is ours.” A voice she’s never heard before. Before she can squash it, a thought floats to the forefront of her mind; maybe it’s her future husband’s.

There’s a few more seconds of small talk and the sound of boots on stone as they make their way down the hall, towards Xion and Roxas.

Xion cuts her eyes to the window. It’s overlooking the street, which has always been crowded with people and cars and tour buses ever since Xion could remember. She watches a family get off a bus and clamor towards the gates, the children pulling the parents along. She can’t hear, but she imagines they’re shouting.

“Ah!” her father’s arm drapes across her shoulders. “Here is my daughter.” He pulls her into his side and away from the window. “Xion, this King Saix of Hollow Bastion and his advisor Axel.”

The first thing Xion notices about Saix is his face. It’s cold and hard, with a set to his jaw that belies how serious he must take everything. There’s a scar crisscrossed over the bridge of his nose, probably obtained in the war ten years ago. He looks down on her, completely expressionless.

“It’s an honor to meet you, your Majesty,” Xion says with a curtsey. As she straightens, she proffers her hand.

Saix takes her hand with a bow, he presses his lips to it before he straightens again. He says, “the honor is mine, your Highness.”

“Xion, King Saix is your betrothed,” her father’s voice booms through the hall and Xion’s stomach bottoms out. Out of the corner of her eye, she sees Saix’s advisor level a glare at her.

 She can practically hear the thread holding up Damocles’s sword snap.

_-_

_45 Days until the wedding_

If Xion thought they were going to have a long engagement, she was wrong. Her parents seem eager to get her out of their hair, expediting the process as much as possible without having to cut back on the extravagance.

Her mother seems determined to get her involved in the planning, trying to make her pick out colors, flowers, and cake flavors. Her latest mission is getting Xion’s opinions on some lace or something? Xion wasn’t really paying attention when her mother dragged her out of her room, and honestly she doesn’t care.

The ballroom they’re using for the reception is bustling, people running all over the place trying to nail down details with the right people. It makes Xion’s head spin.

“I was thinking the Petunia Wave, but Serah is leaning more toward the Scalloped edge. What do you think, dear?” Her mother asks, one of the planners, Serah, is holding out two, almost identical cuts of lace.

“What is this for again?” Xion asks, biting her lip in indecision.

“For your veil, of course!” Serah says, her voice bright and excited.

Xion’s head fills with static. She points to a cut at random and mutters an excuse, running off despite her mother’s protests.

She leaves the palace through a side entrance, hoping to slip past the guards so she can be alone.

No such luck. Riku has always had a knack for knowing when she wants to get into trouble. He pulls a car up next to her before she can get too far. Xion hangs her head and climbs into the backseat. Riku asks, “Where to?”

“I don’t know.” Xion shrugs, leaning her head against the tinted window, rubbing her hand on the leather seat. “I just wanna go somewhere else.”

Riku doesn’t answer, but he shifts the car into drive anyway. He has to pick his way through the gate at a slow pace, careful of clipping any pedestrians, then they’re on the road and Xion watches the palace disappear around a corner.

Riku drives her through the city and she watches the buildings drift by, watches the people running errands. She wonders if they’d be jealous of her. Saix is, after all, a very eligible bachelor. She wonders if they know that she’s jealous of them.

How cliché, she reflects, a spoiled royal who is unhappy with her life. There are already a million movies about the same thing.

Xion’s life isn’t a movie though. She’s not going to abandon Saix, she’ll marry him and do her best to make him happy, no matter how much it makes her skin crawl. She’ll relinquish the reins to her own life with minimal complaint. Maybe she’ll even learn to make the most of it. She could do good things for Hollow Bastion.

An incessant beeping comes from the front seat, making Riku curse up a storm.

“Your Highness,” Riku’s says, voice apologetic. Xion's heart sinks at the tone, “I’m going to need to take you back to the palace.”

“What? Why?” Xion wrings her hands in lap, nerves skyrocketing.

“My, uh,” Riku coughs, but continues valiantly, “my boyfriend is having some trouble and I need to go help him out.”

Xion wonders at the hesitation, but files it away for another conversation. “How long will that take?” She asks.

“It shouldn’t be too long…” Riku says, reluctant, like he knows where Xion is going with this line of questioning.

“Take me with you.” Xion blurts, leaning forward, between the two front seats so she can look Riku in the eye. Riku sighs, heavy, looking up at the sky, like he’s praying the patience to deal with a stubborn royal.

“But-“

“Riku, I really do not want to deal with my mother or my wedding right now.” Xion interrupts before Riku can do something stupid, like talk sense.

“I know, but-“

“I can just wait in the car.”

“I really can’t leave you alone.” Riku actually sounds upset. His hands are gripping the steering wheel, the skin around his knuckles pulled tight, stark against the rest of his skin.

“I’m 19 years old, I think I can handle sitting in the car by myself.” Xion scoffs, and pushes Riku’s shoulder, playful on the outside, but desperation claws at her stomach.

“I’m not sure...” Riku says, but Xion contains a cheer because that’s only one step away from being a yes.

“Please? Nothing will happen, and if it does I’ll take full responsibility.” Xion clasps her hands in front of her, looking at Riku with wide, pleading eyes.

“Okay, but, you _will_ stay in the car.”

Xion grins, relieved, and relaxes back into the plush seat. She’s looking forward to the alone time, even though she’ll be trapped in the car the whole time. It’ll be nice to just stay still for a bit.

Riku pulls the car up to a pre-war building. Xion only knows this because it’s still in the middle of repairs, scaffolding across the top, scorch marks creeping up the sides.

“I’ll be back in half an hour,”

“Take your time.”

Riku leaves the car, closing the door with a crisp, clicking sound. Xion settles in, allowing herself the liberty of putting her feet up on the seat in front of her. She plugs her phone into the radio and plays some old, punk music.

She’s in the middle of rocking out to the Clash when the building across the street catches her eye. It’s the Extra-Terrestrial Assimilation and Liaison building. One of the only post war buildings in the city. Construction started as soon as the ink on the treaty was dry.

There’s a strange sensation in her gut though, not unlike the time when Roxas got lost in the forest on the grounds and Xion was the one to find him. Except, instead of taking her to Roxas, it’s pulling her to the building this time.

Xion looks around and, when she doesn’t see any sign of Riku, she climbs out of the car. She’s glad she wore one of her more low-key dresses today, a simple blue, flowing thing that doesn’t look too out of place among the sundresses on the women around her. Her cloak is a little more conspicuous, but a lot of high fashion is incorporating them now, so, as long as no one looks too closely at the royal signet set in the clasp, she should be fine.

She crosses the street at a brisk, determined pace. She’s able to get into the building without a fuss, since the lobby is usually crowded. Xion gets in the elevator, unnoticed amidst a group of business people, and takes it to the top floor.

Once there, her gut pulls her to a door labelled ‘stairs to the roof,’ and she slips in it, climbs the stairs, and emerges to cool air. The roof is empty, so Xion makes her way to one of the edges, peering out at the skyline of the city between the spikes of faceted glass that make up the top of the building. The sun has begun to to set, casting a colorful glow on the city that puts something inside her at peace. She leans on the railing, intending to watch the sunset, but startles when she hears the door open.

She turns, an apology for intruding already on the tip of her tongue, but it gets caught in her throat along with her breath when she catches sight of who is in front of her.

She’s an alien, grey tinged skin seeming to glow in the dusk light, she has two sets of eyes, one open, the other set just under and closed, for the moment. The open eyes are a clear, bright blue. The skin around her mouth looks strange and Xion wants to reach out and touch it to see if its as soft as it looks. Her shoulders and neck look almost scaly and rough.

“I’m sorry,” she says, brushing her long, blonde hair over her shoulder. Xion is shocked when the words come from an opening at her neck instead of what she assumed at first was the alien’s mouth. “I did not know someone was up here.”

“No, it’s okay,” Xion says quickly, feeling heat rise to her face. The alien is beautiful and Xion wasn’t expecting that. “there’s enough room up here for both of us.”

“Thank you,” the alien says, “I am Naminé.”

“Xion,” she says, holding out her hand, expecting a handshake. Naminé surprises her, bowing a little, and bringing her hand up so she can press it against her face. The skin there is just as soft as Xion thought it would be and it makes her fingers twitch.

“I recognize you,” Naminé says, still holding on to Xion’s hand. Xion decides she likes it too much to say anything about it.

Then the words register and Xion flushes, snagging her hand away, “Do you?” she looks away.

“I am not sure of the proper titles here, but back home we would refer to you as ‘Dearest One,” Naminé says, clasping her hands together in front of her face. Xion’s face, if possible, goes even more red. “I didn’t think I would meet a royal while here.”

“Yeah, well,” Xion shifts awkwardly, “you can forget all of the titles and stuff.”

“But I would like to show you the respect you deserve,” Naminé protests.

Xion sighs and makes her way over to the railing at the edge of the building. “I’m just a normal person,” she says, folding her legs so she can sit down.

“I don’t want to disrespect you…” Naminé sounds hesitant, but hesitancy is just a step away from acceptance.

“Wouldn’t you be showing me respect by honoring my wishes then?” Xion looks up at Naminé with a smile.

Naminé dithers for another moment, then sits down next to Xion. “I guess I can do that,” she says.

“Thank you.”

“You do not like being reminded of your rank.” Naminé is looking at Xion curiously, it makes Xion’s shoulders tense.

“No, I don’t.” Xion focused on the stars that have begun to appear in the sky.

“Why?” Naminé’s not being nosy, she sounds genuinely curious. But… it’s not really an easy thing to tell someone that she doesn’t like to think about the life that doesn’t belong to her, yet she’s forced to live it anyway.

“It’s… hard to explain.” Is what Xion settles for, hoping Naminé will drop it.

“Well, I hope maybe one day you can tell me.” Naminé sends her a smile. It looks strange stretched across her neck like that, but it makes something in Xion’s chest flutter all the same.

“Sure,” Xion says, answering with a smile of her own. She’s surprised to find that it’s not even a total lie.

They sit there and talk for what feels like hours. By the time Xion’s phone starts ringing, Riku finally realizing she’s disappeared, the sun has fully set and the night sky is littered with stars. Naminé and Xion had been pointing out constellations to each other. Reluctantly though, Xion answers her phone and is whisked back to the palace amid a lecture from Riku.

She doesn’t mind though. Naminé asked her to meet again in a few days and Xion intends to keep that date.

-

_39 Days until the wedding_

“Can you tell me about your city?” Naminé asks a few days later. They’re sitting on top of the ETAL building again. Riku wasn’t entirely happy about taking her again, in fact he insisted on accompanying her the whole way, so he’s standing guard by the door to the roof, but Xion is pretty good at persuading him by now.

“What do you want to know about it?” It’s a pretty broad subject, Xion wouldn’t even know where to start, despite all of the lessons about it she’s had with her mother.

“Maybe…” Naminé hesitates. Xion furrows her brow in confusion, Naminé has never been anything but blunt, it’s strange for her to be cautious. “Can you tell me about the war?”

“The war?”

“Yes. I think I would like to hear about it” She sounds more confident now and she’s leveling Xion with a determined look.

“Well,” Xion says, grasping through her memory for anything that might be what Naminé is looking for, “the first refugees landed not too far from here actually, in a small town called Sunset. People had pretty mixed reactions to them.”

“Riots.” It’s not a question.

“Yeah,” Xion winces, knowing how this must sound to someone whose very life this affected, “a few. But my mother was adamant that we needed to help them. Then, other countries got involved.”

“What about the world government, don’t you have one of those?” Naminé’s voice has taken on a weird tone that Xion can’t quite place. It’s somewhere between outraged and sad, but not quite either of those.

“Sure, but not every country is a part of it.” Xion shrugs.

“Why not?” Now Naminé sounds mad, probably thinking it irresponsible not to have a governing party to speak for the whole planet.

“It would be unlawful to force governments to sign treaties that they do not agree with.” Xion sighs, repeating the rote answer her mother always gave her when she asked the same thing.

“Oh.” Naminé still looks angry, but she visibly composes herself, “How long did the war last?”

“Two years, but a lot of people are still trying to fight the treaty.”

“That is a long time to be fighting.” Naminé leans back, looking up at the stars.

“Yeah.” Xion mirrors her position.

“Do you remember any of it?” Naminé asks.  It’s not a question that Xion expected, so it catches her off guard.

“I was too young,” Xion says, which is true, but she does remember a few things. The way her father pushed the military, training some on the grounds of the palace, her mother taking people into the palace whose homes had been destroyed, the looks on their faces.

“Good.” Naminé nods, her expression as serious as it had ever been, “No one should have to live through that.”

Xion doesn’t know how to answer that, so they sit there in silence for a few minutes, Naminé seemingly content with it, but Xion wracking her brain for a different conversation topic. The night had gotten too heavy too quickly and it makes her dizzy.

“This city isn’t just its history,” Xion says finally, trying to distract herself and Naminé from whatever thoughts, or memories, that are bouncing around in their heads, “There’s this ice cream place my brother and I go to that’s really good.”

“Ice cream?” The way Naminé says it, the words sounding foreign in her mouth, makes Xion smile, holding back a laugh. “I’m not familiar.”

“It’s a frozen dessert,” Xion says, a grin stretching across her face, “It’s really good.”

“I think I should like to try it.” Naminé answers with a smile of her own.

“Well, I’ll take you one day.” Xion knocks her shoulder against Naminé’s, causing the skin around her eyes to darken. Was she blushing?

“Really?”

“Yeah, it’ll be fun!” Xion ignores the little voice telling her that she might not have time to. She hasn’t told Naminé about Saix yet and she doesn’t plan to. She’s enjoying their bubble too much.

“I would like that.” And it’s a cliché, but Naminé’s smile takes Xion’s breath away.

-

_18 Days until the wedding_

“Where are you from?” Xion asks. They’ve been meeting up here every couple of days for the last few weeks, but this is the first time Xion’s asked about this. She’s thought about it before, it’s hard not to, but Naminé hadn’t mentioned her home since that first night and Xion had a feeling there was a reason she didn’t want to talk about it.

“It is not important.” Naminé’s eyes shutter and she angles away from Xion a bit, closing herself off without making it obvious that she’s doing so.

“Sure it is,” Xion continues, despite Naminé’s entire aura telling her to back off. “I told you about where I’m from.”

Naminé looks back at her, her mouth downturned in a slight frown. She looks pained and it makes Xion want to go back in time and slap herself.

“My home planet was destroyed,” Naminé finally says.

“Oh.” Well, now Xion really deserves to be slapped, “I’m sorry.”

“It was not your fault.” Naminé says, amusement coloring her words, but it’s not enough to overwhelm the sorrow.

“No, I know.” Xion quirks a smile a her, “It’s also an expression of sympathy here.”

“Oh. Thank you.” Naminé leans into Xion, pressing up against her. The rough skin of her shoulder drags on Xion’s own exposed skin, making her shudder.

“I’m glad you ended up here anyway,” Xion says before she can stop herself. She immediately wants to snatch the words back, what kind of person say something so tactless? But luckily Naminé doesn’t seem bothered. In fact, the words make her smile.

“As am I, it’s been a while since I’ve had a friend.” Naminé’s voice stutters a little around the word friend, but it still fills Xion’s stomach with warmth and she leans her head against Naminé’s shoulder, uncaring of the rough texture.

“Yeah,” Xion sighs, content for the first time since her wedding was decided, “Me too.”

“I hope,” Naminé says, picking the words out of the air with a careful decisiveness, “that we can still be friends after I’m gone.”

“You’re leaving?” Xion feels the world tilt under her. Of course Naminé is leaving, everything else in her life has a time limit, why wouldn’t the one good thing also come with one?

“Not for a few months, but one day I’d like to explore more, where people aren’t so prejudiced,” Naminé says, wistfulness clouding her face.

Xion can’t bring herself to say anything, wanting too much for Naminé to be happy, but still too upset to be supportive. There’s a rushing in her ears that sounds almost like a clock ticking.

-

_7 Days until the wedding_

With only a week until wedding, Xion’s mother finally managed to rope Xion in for a dress fitting. Xion is poised on a little stand while people poke and prod at her. She’s been faced towards a mirror, but she can’t bring herself to look in it, staring determinedly at her hands instead. She feels like a corpse, getting all dolled up for an open casket funeral.

“You look so beautiful,” her mother says, steeping back to admire the work.

“Thank you,” Xion replies, knowing that if she doesn’t she’ll get reprimanded.

There’s a knock at the door, then a sweaty man rushes in. “Your Majesty, Your Highness,” he says with an exaggerated bow, “there is a problem with the flowers that needs your attention.”

Xion’s mother frowns, sending a considering look towards the dress.

“Go ahead,” Xion says, smiling reassuringly, “I can wait.”

Xion’s mother follows the man, taking all of the tailors and seamstresses with her. Apparently flowers are a big deal. Xion lets out a relieves sigh and steps off the stand, careful not to trip over any part of the gigantic skirt. She makes her way over to the windowsill, leaning on it so she can look outside.

The door opens again, without a knock, a few minutes later, causing Xion to frown. No one who knows what is going on would enter this room without knocking. She spins around, not sure who to expect, and wishing she had a weapon. She’s startled though when she sees who it is.

“Naminé?” Xion fights the urge to run away. She feels strangely vulnerable, standing there in a giant, fluffy wedding dress. It feels almost like a betrayal, and Xion hopes for a moment that Naminé doesn’t realize what wedding dresses are, before she realizes what she’s thinking and stamps it out.

“Xion, hello!” Naminé says brightly. She looks out of place against the backdrop of the castle.

“What are you doing here?” Xion can’t stop the panic rising in her chest, these are two parts of her life that were never meant to collide. Though, she realizes now, that was wishful thinking in the first considering how quickly Naminé had recognized her that first night.

“I wanted to see you,” Naminé says, her smiling fading a little at Xion’s tone of voice.

“How did you get in?” Xion asks, it comes out almost accusatory and she has to hold back a wince.

“Your guard, with the silver hair, let me in,” Naminé says.

“Riku?” Xion relaxes a little. She doesn’t know why she got so worked up, it’s not like anyone else would have let a random alien in the palace just because she claimed to be friends with the princess.

“Yeah.” Naminé smiles, seeming glad that Xion’s has calmed down a bit.

“Is there a reason you’re here?” Xion asks, because as much as she loves seeing Naminé, she’s still anxious about her seeing her like this. It makes her skin itch.

“I…” Naminé starts, but seems to change her mind before she can get anything else out, “Why is it so busy here? Is it always like this?” She asks instead.

Xion furrows her brow confused, but decides not to push. “They’re uh,” And oh, maybe she should have pushed, because now she has to admit this, “planning a wedding.”

“Oh really? Whose?” Naminé says, making Xion smile for the first time that day because if she were a human she really wouldn’t need to ask that, Xion standing in front of her as she is. Still though, she has to choke back an odd feeling in her throat before she can answer.

“Mine,” Xion says, feeling her heart plummet when Naminé’s face falls.

“Oh.” It’s a soft sound, less of a word and more of an emotion. It makes Xion’s chest ache inexplicably.

“Yeah.” Xion looks down, where her fists are grasping at the taffeta of her gown. She doesn’t remember clenching them, but she relaxes her hands and smooths out the fabric.

“You didn’t tell me.” Naminé’s voice is accusatory.

“I didn’t want you to know,” Xion says before she can think better of it.

“Why not?” Naminé demands.

“Because…” Xion feels tears prick at her eyes and she turns around, not wanting Naminé to see her like this. She takes a few deep breaths, steadying herself.

“Xion,” Naminé says softly, the anger gone now, replaced only with concern.

“I didn’t want you to know because I don’t want to get married.” Xion blurts out, “Not like this at least,” she says, softer.

“Why not?” Naminé comes forward and puts a hand on Xion’s shoulder. Xion can’t stop herself from leaning into it. “Isn’t marriage supposed to be a good thing?”

“Normally yes, but, as a princess, I have duties, and they include being forced into a loveless marriage for diplomatic reasons.” Xion bites the words out, her frustration at this has never lessened, so her patience with the whole debacle is wearing thin. They’re going to have to scrape her vows out of her throat next week.

“That’s dumb.”

Xion shakes her head. She couldn’t agree with Naminé more. “Yeah,” she says.

They’re both silent for a moment. Then, “We don’t have marriage where I’m from.”

“Really? Why do you know about it then?” Not that she was spouting marriage facts as soon as she came in here, but Naminé had seemed at least passingly familiar with the concept.

“The assimilation lessons are very cohesive,” Naminé answers simply.

“Oh.”

“We have another kind of ceremony though,” Naminé explains, clutching the strap of her bag in the hand that’s not currently a comforting weight on Xion’s shoulder, “It’s similar in that it’s a binding ceremony meant to entwine two souls who wish to be together forever.”

“It sounds nice,” Xion says, meaning every word. There’s a longing in her chest that she refuses to name.

“It was. We would never taint something so extraordinary with a loveless connection.” Naminé’s words are bitter, spat out like bad food.

“Unfortunately, loveless marriages are pretty common here.” Xion sighs and leans against the windowsill again.

The room descends into silence again. Xion can feel Naminé’s uncertainty in the way she shuffles her feet, anxious, but she doesn’t want to push her, choosing instead to wait her out to see if she’ll tell her what she wants to say.

Finally, “I have something for you,” Naminé says, tentative. Xion turns around to see her holding out a necklace. It’s beautiful, a simple, silver chain adorned in colorful jewels that don’t look like they came from this planet. Xion doesn’t reach for it though, something about the tenseness in Naminé’s shoulders stops her.

“It’s a gift,” Naminé explains, “to symbolize my intent to court you.”

“Court me?” Xion rears back, “but-“

“I know,” Naminé’ frowns, “but I wasn’t aware of that before I made it.”

“You made it?” Xion’s not sure why, but now she wants it even more than before, her hand reaches out before she can think about it.

“Yes, it is the custom to do so.” Naminé smiles, bright and welcoming. She proffers the necklace, ready to let Xion meet her halfway for it.

Xion’s fingers brush against one of the stones before she remembers, “But you’re leaving,” she says, snatching her hand back.

“You can leave too,” Naminé says, calm like she’s talking about the weather, like those words didn’t just tear Xion’s world apart. “Come with me.”

She wants to, oh god, she wants to so bad, “I can’t,” she says.

“Why not.” It’s not a question.

“I have duties.” The argument sounds weak even to Xion, but that doesn’t make it less true.

“I can make you happy.” Naminé reaches out, brushes a finger across Xion’s cheekbone. Xion feels the truth of those words down to her bone marrow.

“No, I need to marry Saix.” Xion’s trying to convince herself now, more than she is Naminé. She has to do this. “To solidify the peace between our countries.”

“There are other ways your parents can do that.” Naminé cups Xion’s cheek. “Without you.” The words feel more like a promise than the necklace and they make Xion’s heart leap, but.

“But-“

“Tell me right now that you don’t want this and I’ll leave you alone forever,” Naminé’s voice is hard, turning Xion’s stomach to ice.

She doesn’t respond.

“Then I’m taking you with me. Right now.” Naminé wraps a hand around Xion’s.

“Now?” Xion asks, confused. Naminé was planning on leaving in a few months, not right now.

“Well, I can’t let some gross King get his hands on you first, can I?” Naminé grins and Xion can’t help but return it with a shriek of laughter.

She’ll follow Naminé to the ends of the universe.

After all, she has all the time in the world.

**Author's Note:**

> I yell about kh a lot on my twitter @TrenchWarfaire


End file.
